


WhatWouldTeslaDo: Behind the Scenes

by Fordanoia



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 1980s, 1982, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fighting, Ford has a blog, Ford has a tumblr, Gen, Misunderstandings, Mullet Stan Pines, Paranoid Ford, Paranoid Ford Pines, Stangst, WWTD, WhatWouldTeslaDo, mullet stan, rated T for Stan inevitably swearing in one of these
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fordanoia/pseuds/Fordanoia
Summary: Select scenes on what happened on the other side of the live ask blog I started, @whatwouldteslado, such as the phone conversation where Ford called Stan for help.Approximate page number of the blog in each chapter's beginning notes for when it happened along with the chapter specific content warnings.(WhatWouldTeslaDo is an ask live blog started by Paranoid Ford in 1982 using tech from Fiddleford. The story progressed through messages sent in that help guide Ford, Stan, and others that join in later.)
Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines
Kudos: 22





	1. The Phone Call to Stan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Page [580](https://whatwouldteslado.tumblr.com/page/580) of 609.  
CW: None  
Ford calls Stan for help rather than sending a postcard and Stan tries to figure out just what exactly is going on.

The first time, the phone had ringed barely once, suddenly cutting off mid ring before even fully finishing.

He was fine with that, but five minutes later it started ringing again. Stan picked up the receiver. “Hello…. Hello?”

The line went dead.

His first thought when the phone rings again later, for the third time, is that someone is trying to put him on edge.

He answers, quick and harsh. “Alright, who is this?”

A surprised voice answers this time. Or rather they’re already asking an urgent question that absolutely throws him off. “Are you okay?”

“What?”

The voice hesitates, uncertain this time. “… Are you-… A-“ They almost sounded concerned, but they also sounded just like….

“… Ford?”

The stiff reply confirms he’s right. “Stanley, you need to be careful.”

Knowing it's Ford doesn't actually help this sudden call make any more sense. If anything, this just got a whole lot more confusing than if it had been someone random. “Uh, what? Be- Ford, what the Hell?”

“Just-“ he sounds uncomfortable. “You have to be careful, and-" just like that he stops short like he’s stuck.

“You called… to tell me to be careful.” Stan deadpanned, pushing the heel of his hand to his forehead.

“No- I mean, yes.” Ford tries.

“You’re calling to say that? Right now? Really, Ford? _Really?_” Hey, it’s been over ten years, but_ be careful_. It was already empty advice whenever he got it. That went double now though since it was a few too many years late to even hold much sentiment.

Ford talks hurriedly. “No, it’s- there’s someone that-“ Then just like that, he repeats the original warning again, filling the words with importance. “You need to be careful, please.”

“‘Someone?’” It clicks in Stan’s head immediately. A lot of people have it out really bad for Stan, but the only reason Ford would know that is because ‘someone’ was in Oregon.

It also would explain why Ford was calling him in the first place. Someone from Stan’s past had run into Oregon. “Ford, what did they say to you?”

“It… It could have been a bluff, but a- but it was a bit.” He finished evasively.

A sudden idea hit him. Ford talked hurriedly and urgent, like he only had spare seconds, not to mention a bit quietly…

“Ford, _are they still there?_”

Absolute Silence… That was a ‘Yes.’

_Shit_. Stan continued seriously. “Stanford, are they in the room with you?”

“No. No, I’m outside. He could be watching, but, that’s not. He’ll know regardless.” He faltered over his words.

Stan relaxed a tiny degree, quickly questioning him. “What does he look like? Short black hair? You catch a name? What the guys with him looked like maybe?” His money was on Rico or Jorge, but there was a dozen different guys it could just as easily be.

“No! No, it’s not-“ Ford huffed out of frustration. “You don't- you _shouldn't_ know him.”

Stan thought about that for a second. “Then why did you call me?”

Ford struggled through the words, clearly uncomfortable putting the words out there. “It sounded like he was going to find you.”

“Ford, what kind of guy is this?” Stan asked. Ford wouldn’t have called him for… well he would have said for nothing before, but it looked like he was wrong about that. “Wait a second,” He said then, “why me? You said I shouldn’t even know him.” He kept going, the implied details not adding up. If Stan didn’t know him, how did he know Stan? “What’s going on?”

Ford takes an audible breath. “Can you come up here? It’s- Stanley, it’s very important.”

Stan completely stops at that, not saying a word. Warning him was one thing, actually asking him to come over though… Something was seriously wrong. Or Stan was having a serious fever dream from eating pizza, and this wasn’t even happening.

Ford broke the long silence, quiet and half resigned already. “Please.”

“Okay.” Stan answered without thinking. A part of him was still trying to figure out this whole thing entirely with almost nothing to work off of. Ford wouldn’t call and joke about inviting him up there, but the idea still crossed his mind for a second. “Ford, what’s going on?” He asked for a second time.

“I can tell you when you get up here.” Came the simple response.

Stan frowned, and pushed down a grumbling complaint for now. “You could also tell me now.” He switched his phone to his other hand. “I’m in New Mexico, Ford. This isn’t exactly me coming on down the street to help ya move or something.” Just saying a casual scenario like that between them felt so alien and out of place, but Stan continued. “What’s going on. Why are you asking…” why was Ford asking _him_…?

Stan sighed. “Just at least tell me what’s going on so I know what to friggin’ expect.”

“It’s… a lot, but just don’t trust anyone.” Ford told him, and then quickly added on. “And be careful on your way up here! I don’t know what could happen, but… I don’t think it’s safe.”

Stan muttered, “not really answering my question there, Sixer.”

There’s a beat of silence, before Ford talks. “If you see someone with yellow eyes, don’t let them near you.”

“Yellow- like the disease? What is this? A plague?” The longer the conversation went on the more he thought he’d be understanding, not less.

“No. No, as in…” he almost sounds disheartened. “_Glowing,_ yellow eyes, Stanley. Or anyone seeming too friendly.” Ford then seemed to change his mind. “Anyone, actually. You can’t trust anyone.”

“Ya went really specific to really vague there.” Stan pointed out.

“It’s a lot to try and explain.” He said.

“Maybe try and explain more than five seconds about it then.”

“No,” he said. “No, I’ve already been in town for too long. I can’t stay in one unsecured spot for too long like this, it’s too risky.”

“You- Why didn’t you just call me from your house phone then?”

“I cut the landline. It wasn’t safe.” Ford answered like it was the most straightforward thing.

Stan barely kept himself from asking about _THAT _because he already knew that whatever the story for that was Ford was just going to say the same thing about it being too dangerous to fully explain for whatever reason. “Of course, it wasn’t. _Okay,_ okay…” He trailed off, half frustrated and half worried like Hell.

What the Hell was going on? Stan had no clue, but it sounded bad and nearly every other thing Ford said made it sound even worse. Not to mention how Ford sounded. An edge of hurried panic to his voice the entire time.

Stan breathed in slowly. “When I get there, you better be alive and you better tell me what’s going on.” He said, uselessly gesturing with his free hand.

“… I will.”

Stan nodded his head. “Alright…. See ya soon.”

“See you soon.” Ford echoed back.

Stan hung up the phone, waiting for a second like there would be some vital last minute thing, but no.


	2. Sole Archivist, Effective Immediately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Page [491](https://whatwouldteslado.tumblr.com/page/491) of 609.  
CW: None  
On their way to the unicorn glade, Stan and Ford get into an argument that results in a new set up for the blog.

The first time he asks, it’s light and easy enough to dismiss. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Stan lies, “it’s fine.”

Ford watches him for a moment more, but lets it go easy enough.

The second time, it’s more -not direct- but more certain. “Did something happen?”

“No.” This time he’s not lying. Not really. Nothing happened, after all. Nothing _changed._

Ford frowns, and Stan can feel it in the air that he’s on the edge of trying to say more. So Stan says something before he decides to. “You should probably get something to eat. You know. Trip in the middle of the woods, right?”

“Oh.” His brother pauses, glances over then back at him. “Right.”

He figures that that’s it. That’s all. Which is why when Ford asks a THIRD damn time, well that just must be the friggin' charm.

“Stanley, is something the matter?”

“_No_, nothing’s wrong and you can quit asking already.” He can’t help it. It’s started grating on his nerves, especially because he’s sure enough that he’s only asking because some messages told him to. That’s why Ford had even called him at all in the first place, after all. Why would anything have changed?

“We’re packed so let’s just go already.” Stan pulls on his coat and starts walking out the door, not checking back to see if Ford follows after or not. He’s sure enough he will. “Unicorn hair, right?”

He can hear Ford going off after him, and when they leave the house Ford locks the door after themselves.

“The Unicorn glade is this way.” Ford points out, to the left of the Shack. “We’ll follow the river for a while then turn away from it to the meadow. It’s going to take an hour or more depending on the snow. It’s an easy enough walk really.”

“Sounds great” Stan says, not caring all that much as he started tromping in the direction Ford pointed out.

He can feel Ford looking at him, before he catches up beside him. Stan’s shoulder hunch as he hears the fast paced tapping of buttons, the speed of clacks from the device a sure sign enough that Ford’s irritated.

The cold’s enough to calm him down a bit, though it only takes a single look to tell Ford’s starting to get upset about something. _Great_. Nothing saying they can’t just keep walking in silence though.

It’s only five minutes of silence trudging through the snow encrusted forest before Ford talks though, determined. “Stan, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He answers shortly, thinking that’s all it’ll take.

“Stanley-“

“What, Ford?!” Stan cuts him off, frustration bubbling up high, as he finally looks over at him.

Ford is thrown off, but continues not letting it go. “Something is wrong, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“You know what, you can tell them I’m doing just great!” Stan tells him flippantly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ford asked, anger seeping into his tone awful quick for a guy that was supposed to be checking in on Stan about his feelings or something.

Hey, color him completely shocked though. “It means they asked so just go ahead and tell them.” He said with a careless wave of his hand at the device.

“They-_ I’m_ asking you, Stanley.” Ford starts, and quickly tries to brush past it.

Stan scoffs. “Yeah, so they didn’t tell you to ask me?”

“Y- that’s not the point.” Ford said, bristling, and it’s all Stan needs to know that he was right.

Heck, he already knew he was right. If he could have bet money on it he would have. “You know what, yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking away from him. “Sure, that’s not the point. Point is we’re going to get unicorn hair,” he pointedly looked back at Ford as he finished, “because you agreed to it after _they_ agreed with me.”

“I agreed with you because you made a good point!” Ford argued immediately.

“Didn’t agree with me last night when you didn’t have that thing on you.”

“What are you saying? Just say it.” Well, if he really wanted it spelled out for him.

“Oh, what? That it took _them_ to make you see that I was right instead of - I don’t know-“ Stan stopped in the snow, gesturing to himself, _“just listening to me?_” Was that really so hard for him to do?!

Stan gestured sharply back at him. “They’re the ones always changing your damn mind.”

“You think everything I do is just because of them..?” There’s something high and tense to the way Ford is holding himself now, and it’s a clear sign he’s about to get mad.

Let him be. Stan didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. If he wanted to get mad over nothing, that was on him.

“I didn’t say nothing.” Stan says, crossing his arms over himself.

His expression changed instantly, like gasoline just lit by a match. A flash of intense anger running out with a tone running thin. “You know what?!” He started smashing buttons, not stopping in his barely reigned in tirade, “If you’re just going to think they’re **puppeteering** me around while I have that thing then fine!”

He roughly shoves the device into Stan’s hand. “Hold onto it. Don’t tell me _anything_ they say, I don’t want to hear it anymore! I don’t need it!” Ford turns back sharply towards the path, his voice only now coming back down to something less intense. He’s still not trying to hide his anger in the slightest. “Besides, it’s an archiving tool. Bill can’t alter your mind so it only makes sense for you to be the only one that can update it.”

When Ford continues walking again so does Stan.

Stan didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, but there Ford was completely overreacting! He didn’t say stop looking at the stupid gizmo or anything. _Just to try listening to **him.**_ Leave it to Ford to take it too far though, just because he realized someone else besides him was right for once.

Glancing down at the recent post only confirms Ford’s being over-dramatic. 

> STAN P. IS THE OFFICIAL AND ONLY ARCHIVIST, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.

“Sixer-”

“_Keep it, Stanley._” Ford cuts him off frigidly. “At least that way you’ll know what I do is actually because it’s me choosing to do it, not someone else.”

Stan grits his teeth. “_Fine_,” he says, before muttering again. “Fine.”


End file.
